Kings, Knights, and Pawns
by Aurorax
Summary: They said it was an accident. Some even whispered about suicide. But kings don't die quietly, and every story has a secret at its heart. Oneshot examination of the sacrifice and betrayal that led to Roald's death, written for GL's Secrets and Lies Week.


**This was written for Goldenlake's Secrets and Lies week. Warning for character death. Enjoy!**

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Everyone had loved Lianne, in that rare way which transcended title or station. It wasn't because she was the Queen, or even because she had been a daughter of Naxen. There was something about her calm voice which could ease any trouble, a look of compassion in her eyes like the offer of a helping hand. Then there was that hidden strength, even as she struggled to conceive, and later as her health began to fail, which saw her at every party and banquet and council meeting with a stubborn smile upon her face and a hint of challenge in the set of her chin. Myles had often thought that it made her look like her brother, but, even more than that, it made her look like a true Queen.

But no one had loved her like Roald. The King was a humble man, and he had always been more than willing to admit that she was his heart and his love, the glue that held him together and the conscience that kept him from abusing his position. Most of the court had laughed, and toasted their Queen, thinking it a joke. But those closest to Roald, Myles among them, knew that everything he said was the truth. So when Lianne finally lost her battle with the infirmity of body that had plagued her for so long, leaving the world with the same force of spirit and compassionate grace which had characterized her life, they were left to pray that the shattered pieces could be cobbled together into the semblance of a man. Tortall needed a King.

Myles knew all about love. Strength was for the knights, knowledge for the scholars, but he was the master of manipulating emotions, and the heart was his favorite target. Men who would have endured any torture began to spout their secrets at the mere whisper of their wife's name; the face of a pretty girl could open doors barred against handfuls of gold. But now it was his own King, his own country. A week had passed- not enough time to mourn, no, but Roald was not a common soldier, and he had known from birth how much duty could cost.

Duke Gareth was back at his work, a dark band tied around his arm and his eyes shining as if the reflection of his sister's patient face swam in the air just before them. There was no look of surprise on his face as Myles quietly let himself in to the paper-filled office, only tired resignation laced with a fierce sadness. He too had seen broken men, soldiers who couldn't handle death, who shattered at the first taste of war. Squires who entered the Chamber unprepared and unworthy. As Prime Minister and as Champion, he had a responsibility to his realm; to hesitate now would only be to magnify Roald's mistakes.

Jon was ready. They had watched him grow up, both of them, helping to shape his mind and temper his pride. Unlike his father, he had found strength in his sorrow, each tear shed leaving new determination and resolve in its place. He wouldn't be able to do it alone, but he wouldn't have to- Jon had good friends, it was one of his greatest blessings. Myles wished Alanna was at the Palace- she had the most influence over him, and if she brought out the worst she could also bring out the best, as the desert had shown. But Jon would find her, and she would come to him; no matter what passed between the two, they always knew when they needed one another. They couldn't wait any longer.

It shouldn't have been this easy. Roger had spent years planning, and even with his vast reserves of power, he had still been caught in the end. But there had always been something slightly off about him, a little burst of cold as he entered the room that sent shivers down the spine. Maybe it was just because they were taking advantage of years of hard-earned trust; maybe they were favored by the Gods, because they really were trying to help the country. Maybe deep down, Roald knew in his heart that this was necessary, and left his fate in the hands of those whose opinions he had always trusted the most. But there was no denying the fear in his eyes as he saw Gareth and Myles appear suddenly on the other side of the steep gorge and felt the startled horse balking under his frenzied tug on the reins. Nor could they ignore the way that his hand had made that last feeble attempt to seize the saddle before he had tumbled downward, his title doing nothing to protect him in death.

It was an accident; many would even consider it a suicide, conversing in low whispers, and it was true that Roald had brought the fall upon himself. No one would ever need to know why he had hesitated before the jump, trying to change what was already an inevitable course. Myles and Gareth faded silently into the woods, paying their last respects to the man who was their friend and their King. Roald had loved his country, but he had loved his wife more. And Tortall needed a leader, someone who could look ahead to the future with a clear light in his eyes and the fire of tragedy driving his actions. So they made their way back to the Palace, knowing that they would soon by needed. The man who was to be their King was still little more than a boy, and boys who had just lost their parents were always in need of comfort.


End file.
